Page 53 of Wild Highland Rose (Time After Time #4)

Suddenly, Marjory felt tired. Old and tired.

She had carried this hatred so long that it had become a comfortable part of her, but now, faced with the choice to let another live or die, it seemed an intolerable burden.

She glanced around at the carnage, her eyes seeing not just blood spilled today, but blood spilled fifteen years ago.

Looking up, she spied the night's first star, shining through the open window. Angels, her mother had said. Angels . Marjory looked back at Torcall. Enough blood had been shed. The time for killing was over. Cameron had been right. It was time for living. Time for forgetting.

Still holding her sword to Torcall's throat, she used her other hand to pull his sword from Allen's body. She tossed it toward the door. "Get up."

Torcall sneered as he rose. "Ye canna do it."

"Nay, I haven't the taste fer it." She dropped her claymore, the sound echoing off the walls as it hit the stone floor. "Now get out o' my sight, before I change my mind."

She saw Fingal draw his weapon. He'd see that Torcall was escorted off Crannag Mhór lands. It was over. With a heavy heart, she walked over and knelt beside Cameron.

"No." Aimil's scream filled the air.

Marjory turned to see Torcall grab her abandoned claymore. With a single step, he would be within striking range. Her own stupidity would be her death. At least, she thought, I'll be with Cameron.

She staggered to her feet, trying to evade the blade, but suddenly, Torcall arched back, his eyes widening in pain. With a whimper of exhaled breath, he crumpled to the ground. Behind him stood Aimil, Torcall's bloodied claymore in her hand.

The woman was frozen in place her eyes riveted on Torcall. "'Tis as it should be." Her voice was low, almost a whisper. "Ye lied to me all those years ago, saying ye loved me."

Aimil moved forward, kneeling beside the dead man, talking to him as if he could hear her.

"I believed ye, ye know. I would have gone anywhere with ye.

Done anything fer you." She reached out and stroked the side of his face, her hand leaving a trail of blood.

Fingal took a step toward her, but Marjory shook her head.

Aimil continued talking, taking no notice of the others in the room.

"I've ne're loved another." She sat down and pulled his head into her lap.

"'Twas me who helped ye past the guards at the pass.

'Twas only a potion to make them sleep." Her voice took on a sing-song quality and she rocked the dead man in her arms smoothing his hair as she spoke.

"And what a night o' loving we had. Ye told me that ye'd come fer me. To take me away with ye, ye said. I was such a fool." She rocked in silence, lost in the past.

Then suddenly she turned to Marjory, her eyes unfocused and wild. "'Twas me, ye ken. I helped Torcall that day." Tears streamed down her face. "I killed Manus and Gleda just as surely as if I'd run them through myself."

Marjory's mind went numb. She tried to think of something to say, but there weren't any words. She stared at the woman she had thought of as a mother. She ought to feel anger or rage, but instead she felt only sadness and pity. What a tangled web of emotions and deceit had led them to this place.

Aimil turned back to Torcall's body, still stroking his hair.

"Ye tricked me, ye did. Ye ne'er loved me at all.

'Twas all a ruse to get ye into Crannag Mhór and I fell fer it like the innocent that I was.

" She tilted her head, looking into his face.

"And even after, when everyone lay dying, I wanted to go with ye, but ye laughed, and said I was o' no of use to ye anymore. "

She looked up, but her eyes saw only the past. "What a fool I was, what a bloody awful fool.

" She ran her hand over his face, tracing the curve of his jaw.

"And even when I hated ye, I loved ye. Always, I loved ye.

But ye've got to understand, I couldna let ye hurt Marjory.

I pledged to protect her, penance fer what I'd done.

I couldna let ye kill her. And so, mo chridhe , I had to kill you. " She leaned down and kissed his lips.

"Enough, Aimil."

Marjory tore her gaze away from the tormented woman to look toward Fingal, whose face was awash in emotion. Aimil looked at her brother, her eyes pleading. "I had to do it, Fingal. He would have hurt our Marjory. I had to do it."

Fingal placed a hand on his throat. His voice was low and raspy, but clear in the silence of the chamber.

"I know, mo phiuthair , I know. Come now, let me take ye to yer chamber.

Ye need to rest. 'Tis over, love, 'tis all over.

" He held out a hand, but instead of taking it, Aimil pulled her sgian dubh.

Fingal rushed forward, but it was too late.

But before anyone could stop her, Aimil plunged the dagger into her heart.

Marjory sat in stunned silence, the chamber reeking of death. Torcall, Allen, Cameron and now Aimil. Fingal wept openly, leaning down to gather his sister's body into his arms. With nary a backward glance he carried her from the room.

So much lost this day. Cameron had been right, the cost of hatred was high.

With a gentle hand, she reached out to touch his body.

It was already starting to cool. She traced the muscles of his chest, stopping to lay her hand over his heart.

There was nothing. No breath. No life. Tears filled her eyes, tears for all that had passed and for all that would never be.

"I love you." She whispered the words, bending low to his ear, knowing he couldn't hear her and yet needing to say it. "I love you."